


Strawberry

by carriecmoney



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: 80s setting, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Werewolf, American Midwest, Blood and Injury, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 04:04:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9054628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carriecmoney/pseuds/carriecmoney
Summary: Daichi drums his fingers on his arm. “That ain’t no coyote, Jer. That’s a wolf.”The bugs hum in silence for a solid minute before Jerry asks, “What in the Sam Hill is a wolf doin’ in Oklahoma?”Secret Santa giftfic for notallbees





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [notallbees](https://archiveofourown.org/users/notallbees/gifts).



> {A/N: I really wanted to get the whole plot of this one done before the deadline, but between work, Caravan, and getting the actual flu two days before Christmas, I was a little strapped :9 This will be my fallback for when I need to write about fast food and normal, just-dogs between deluges of my high fantasy epic. More characters and tags will be added as they appear - don't worry, there will be more! Thanks for the great prompts, bee!}

It’s way later than Daichi should still be at work when the phone ringing startles him out of paperwork. He drops his pen, curses, and shoves his rolling chair across the office to grab the receiver on the last ring.

“Foster Animal Hospital,” he yawns, rubbing at his face.

“ _Yo, Daich, glad I caught you!_ ” a rattled voice shouts over the line. He sounds distant and windy, static crackling across the connection. “ _I tried your home phone but you weren’t there and I know you don’t go out so_ -”

“Jerry?” Daichi says to cut off the rambling. “Where the hell are you?”

“ _I’m on my truck phone,_ ” Jerry yells, wind blowing. “ _I think I just hit a dog!_ ”

Daichi freezes. “You _think?_ ”

“ _I ‘unno, it’s dark out here and the animals cleared outta this field a while back and I can’t tell if it’s a coyote or not, but can I bring it in? It’s still alive – I think?_ ”

Daichi sighs, already standing. “Yeah, sure, I’ll tell you what it is. Bring it on by.”

“ _Thanks, Dai! I owe you one – I ain’t just wanna leave the poor varmit out here, y’know?_ ” Daichi sighs again as Jerry hangs up, then goes to get his exam room ready for his new patient, shooing the clinic cats to the back room on the way.

An engine roars into his tiny parking lot about twenty minutes later, the ghost of a white work truck rolling past the exam room window. Daichi sticks a handful of latex gloves in his lab coat pocket and goes out to meet it.

There’s only one streetlight in range of the lot, but it’s a full moon out so Daichi doesn’t have trouble watching Jerry back the truck up as close to his door as it can get. Jerry cuts the engine off and hops out as Daichi waits by the tailgate, hands on his hips. “A’ight, show me this coyote you hit.”

“If it’s a coyote, it’s a _big_ one,” Jerry rambles as he squeezes between the cedar paneling of the clinic and his truck. “Came right the hell outta nowhere and _bam!_ Blood all over the fender. He was in right shape, but he passed out cold when I got ‘em in here so I hope he ain’t died on the way-” He lowers the tailgate and stands back. Daichi frowns, crossing his arms. “Well?”

Daichi drums his fingers on his arm. “That ain’t no coyote, Jer. That’s a wolf.”

They both stare at the large pile of fur in the back of Jerry’s truck, the dirt and sand from work mixing with blood, heavy head flopped to the side as its chest barely moves at a rabbit’s pace. Daichi can see the open wound on its flank where it was hit by the truck, fur around it caked in dark red, but he wouldn’t know what else was coming with it until he got inside.

The bugs hum in silence for a solid minute before Jerry asks, “What in the Sam Hill is a wolf doin’ in Oklahoma?”

Daichi shrugs. “Beats me. C’mon, let’s get it inside so it don’t get any more infected.” Jerry shrugs as well, and they climb up into the bed, approaching with caution, but the wolf doesn’t move as its world shifts under it or as foreign hands dig under it to slide and lift it out.

The wolf stays unconscious as they haul it inside and into Daichi’s exam room, grunting under its weight. It’s impossible to mistake this for anything other than a timber wolf beneath the stark fluorescents, its coat a brindled black and silver with one pale sock on its back left paw. Jerry stands back to admire it with a whistle as Daichi snaps on some gloves. “Well this one takes the cake,” Jerry says, huffing on a laugh. “Where you suppose he came from?”

“Someone’s illegal escaped pet, maybe,” Daichi responds, “or fell off a wagon on the way to the zoo. Hell, it’s a full moon, maybe he’s a werewolf.” Jerry laughs – the wolf stirs. Daichi freezes, hands hovering over the wound. “Step back, please, Jer.” Jerry has no problem with that order, jumping away to press against the far wall. Daichi tunes him out as he feels around the fur, barely touching it yet as he watches its face for any reaction. Its muzzle twitches as he ghosts over the ribs – surprisingly whole – and checks each leg, under the tail – he. Great. He circles around to the cuts, touches getting firmer – a paw twitches –

He grazes fingertips over the edge of torn skin, and the wolf springs to life, snapping at Daichi with a table-rattling growl. Daichi jumps back – Jerry screeches – but the wolf stays on the table, curled around its injured flank and glaring Daichi down. He’s been glared at by unhappy dogs before – comes with the veterinarian territory – but never by gold eyes, even when he spent a summer as a ranger’s assistant up in Yellowstone. He holds up his hands. “Easy, boy,” he says, quiet and low. “I’m just here to help. No harm done. It’s okay, you’re all right now.” He keeps talking nonsense in his soothing tone that’s gotten cats out of trees before, and hair by hair, the wolf’s hackles lower, although his teeth stay bared as the growl keeps rumbling through his chest. Daichi slowly lowers his hand into his pocket for the treats he keeps there. The growl kicks up a notch when the hand disappears, but his ears flick forward when he sees the treat pinned between Daichi’s fingers. He smiles without teeth.

“Definitely accustomed to humans,” he mumbles, tossing the treat on the exam table between his forepaws. The wolf snaps it up without inspection, and Daichi chuckles. “You gonna let me look at that?” he asks, pointing at the wound. The wolf growls again. Daichi tosses him another treat. “If you don’t, it’ll just get infected and hurt a lot more,” he reasons, and he almost thinks this wolf understands him. The wolf licks his lips, still curled on himself and guarded but relaxing. Daichi reaches under the table for cottonballs and peroxide, keeping eye contact with the wolf and humming nonsense.

“Don’t you wanna – tie him down or something?” Jerry hisses from the wall. Daichi shakes his head.

“Not how I work. I’m up to date on my shots.” He pours some peroxide on a handful of cottonballs. “Besides, you’re a good boy, right?” The wolf’s eyes flutter. Daichi smiles and dabs at the wound with the peroxide-soaked cotton – he yips, and Daichi flashes a hand to hold his ribs down, but he just whines and stays still with only a little squirming. “Good, good boy,” Daichi croons, cleaning the wound as quick as he can – although it already looks smaller than when he had come out of the back of the truck.

He finishes cleaning the cuts – a collection of four slashes about the same pattern as the corner of Jerry’s front fender – humming the whole while. He doesn’t notice that the hand holding the wolf’s torso down has burrowed into deep fur until he steps back and the wolf chuffs at his retreating hand, chin on his paws. Daichi smiles and tosses the soiled cottonballs into the trashbin.

“Unbelievable,” Jerry mutters, loud in the midnight-quiet clinic. Daichi blinks up at him. His terrified clutch of the wall has turned into a cross-armed lean, head shaking with a smile. “We ain’t even been here ten minutes with a fuckin’ _wolf_ and he already loves you.”

Daichi rolls his eyes, pulling out his hair trimmers from another drawer in his exam table. “He doesn’t _love_ me,” he argues, watching the wolf’s face as he turns the switch on the battery-operated razor. He barely blinks, watching Daichi in return. “He’s just way too used to humans. Fish and Wildlife will have a field day.”

“Oh yeah. Them.” Daichi starts to shave around the cuts – the wolf twitches when he gets too close to pink, but otherwise stays still. “Shit, should I have called them first? I ain’t even think about it, I just saw a hurt animal and thought of you-”

Daichi cuts him off with a chuckle. “It’s a’ight, Jer, I’m pretty friendly with the local guys by now. Once I get this boy stitched up I’ll call ‘em.” He glances up. “I know you probably need to get back to work. I think I can handle him from here.”

Jerry looks at him with wide eyes and a pucker. “You can handle him. Sure.” Daichi feeds the wolf another treat as he shaves between the cuts. “Yeah, okay, I’m not going anywhere until that thing’s locked up or knocked out.”

Daichi presses his hands over the wolf’s ears. “Come on! Don’t say things like that where he can hear you!” The wolf tucks his head away from Daichi’s hands with a snort.

Jerry sighs, dragging a hand down his face. “Dai, that’s not a _dog-_ ” He trails off as the wolf pushes up on his front legs enough to lick Daichi’s face. Daichi laughs and rubs behind his ears. “ _Daichi_.”

“What?” The wolf leans against him to lick more, and _oh_ this is a big animal. Daichi stumbles to bear the weight, clicking the shears’ motor off so he doesn’t cut him by mistake, and waits out the friendly assault. “Okay, okay, down, boy,” he laughs, trying to push him back flat on the table and just ending up with an armful of fur. The wolf barks in his ear, tail wagging.

“Just don’t take it home, Dai,” Jerry sighs behind the fur. “Remember the fox.”

“I promise. _Down,_ boy.” The wolf backs off, whining as he drops back to the table, easing into his relaxed lay. “He’ll stay here until Fish and Wildlife can come by, Rattler and the cats are the only animals in tonight. No boarders he can terrify.” Daichi cups the wolf’s face and scrubs down into his ruff. “You’ll be just fine for the night, right, boy?” A happy rumble echoes in the wolf’s chest.

Jerry pushes off the wall and straightens his cap on his head. “I’ll check on you in the morning to make sure you ain’t got eat,” he groans, rubbing his eye – looks at the blood on his hands. “After I wash my hands.” Daichi nods at the sink in the corner as he picks the razor back up, wiping his wet face on his shoulder. He gets back to work shaving – okay, it’s _definitely_ smaller now. And weren’t there four cuts? He frowns. “Something wrong?”

“No…” Daichi shakes it off. “No. G’on, get back to your job, Jerry.” Jerry leaves with one last groan, the rickety building rocking with his exit, path tracing him out the door and down the ramp, gravel crunching all the way to the truck. Daichi finishes shaving the last hair away as it roars to life and rumbles away, putting the razor down and stepping back. He had mapped out an area around the cuts just wide enough to be sterile when he started, but now it was closed up to half that size. It had been hard to tell in the dark outside, but now it was obvious that it had stopped bleeding freely some time ago, already scabbed over. Daichi frowns at it, fists on his hips. “Two things you don’t see everyday, huh?” He raises his eyebrows at the wolf. “I think I get the picture, even if I don’t get why.”

He pulls his barstool over to sit by the wolf’s head, offering him another treat with an open palm as he runs a hand over thick silk. “You’re well-groomed for a lab subject,” he mutters. The wolf inches forward to nose in the pocket the treats are coming from. Daichi laughs and holds him back by the muzzle – he growls, shaking the table. Daichi lets him go and scoots back. “Sorry. I shouldn’t be so familiar with you.” The wolf shoves up to his forepaws, sitting up and towering over Daichi on the exam table, staring down at him, gold and silver flashing in the cheap lighting.

They watch each other for a minute, an hour, until Daichi’s eyes water and he has to blink first. “Okay, fine,” he sighs, pulling the remaining treats out of his pocket and tossing them on the table. The wolf scrambles to snap them up, nails clicking on metal. Daichi watches him move, fluid and unhindered by any internal or hidden injuries. His flank is still covered in drying blood, so he gets up to pour a bowl of warm water from the sink, grabbing a few towels on his way back and setting them on the stool. “Now, we’re just gonna clean you up nice for the Fish and Wildlife boys, a’ight? Can’t have a pretty boy like you looking less than your best.” The wolf is still sniffing out the treats that fell in the side grooves, not paying Daichi any mind. He soaks a corner of a towel and wraps the dry end around his wrist. “Okay, boy, you wanna turn around for me?” The wolf cuts gold at him and grumbles, but does as requested, crawling around to his original position. Daichi raises his eyebrows. “Okay then.” He smiles as he gets to work, cleaning off the towel every few swipes. “You’re about to spoil me for my regular patients, huh, boy? First you’re this pretty, then you’re this smart. You should be in a dog show.” The wolf closes his eyes and rests his muzzle on his crossed forepaws. “Obviously someone’s been tinkering with you in ways they shouldn’t be, but why don’t they have a collar on you or something? Not that I would give you back to them, of course. You deserve to live where you’re supposed to be.” He sets aside the soiled first towel and preps the next. “I would just like to know your story, after I gave them a piece of my mind.”

Daichi rambles to himself and the wolf until his coat is shiny and silver once more – even the shaved patch has bristles already. “There, now. Good as new.” He runs a hand down the wolf’s spine. “Think you can get down, or do you need a hand?” The wolf cracks an eye, then groans as he gets to his feet and hops down to the floor. Daichi stretches and yawns before dumping the dirty water down the sink and leaving the towels there for either tomorrow’s Daichi or his lab tech to get (probably Noya). The wolf shakes out like a wet dog, nails clacking. He’s probably smaller than some of the extra-large dogs Daichi has on his roll, but none of them have this _presence_. Maybe he gets now why wolf gods exist. But he’s too tired now to be thinking about religion.

“You probably need some food and water,” he says through another yawn, “Even if you can stitch yourself up like that, you lost a lot of blood. I only keep kibble around here, though.” He leads the wolf out of the exam room to the back with the pharmacy and boarders’ cages, not bothering with a leash or directions. The wolf follows on his heels.

Two of the three clinic cats are there, curled up in their beds and pretending that their visitor isn’t there (the last one is probably curled up in his chair). Rattler pokes his wide head through the dog door to the backyard, sniffing around. Daichi smiles and says to his new patient, “Now be nice to my kids. They’re used to strangers, but you’re a strange one even for them.” The wolf’s face twitches – he has silver spots on his black face almost like eyebrows – before he trots over to meet Rattler as he comes all the way inside. They stand nose-to-nose for a few seconds until Rattler slides to lie down, then roll over, tongue lolling out of his mouth. “Ham,” Daichi mutters as he digs around for his large dog set of food and water bowls.

He fills them and sets them against the wall as they get acquainted then props his fists on his hips and taps his toes at them. Rattler is the first to roll off the wolf and sit at attention, but the wolf isn’t far behind, both of them breathless and dog-smiling. “Rattler, guard.” Rattler barks and takes his post by the dog flap. The wolf tilts his head at Daichi, who kneels in front of him to be on his eye level. “I’m gonna head out now, ‘cause it’s either too early or too later for me to make a good decision with you right now,” he says. He scratches behind the wolf’s ear, down under his chin, sinking his hands into his ruff one final time. “You really are such a beauty,” he breathes, and the wolf almost purrs. Daichi sighs and pushes to his feet. “Be good now, okay?” Both dog and wolf bark confirmation at him as he leaves them there, locking the door behind him. He pauses as he stares at his abandoned paperwork at the reception desk. He really shouldn’t waste more time before calling Fish and Wildlife, especially with such a domesticated creature. But he’s exhausted, the wolf isn’t going anywhere, and he really doesn’t feel like trying to explain the self-healing wounds without the visual evidence he saw.

Tomorrow. He’ll call them tomorrow.

* * *

He comes into the clinic the next morning feeling a lot like he did when he left – restless, tired, and still unready to make a decision on what to do with the wolf. He picked up breakfast on the way in, though, so maybe his previous owners human-conditioned him enough that he would recognize a McMuffin like he did dog treats. He sets his coffee down at reception and tiptoes past the creaky floorboards to the back room. It’s still early, just past sunrise; his lab tech won’t get in for another hour, then his first patient for an hour after that. He’s got time to re-evaluate the situation in the light of day.

He flips the deadbolt on the door, slow and quiet, and slides in the cracked door, McDonald’s bag-first. “Mornin’,” he whispers, peering into the gray room. The only light is front the sun glinting through his bent Venetian blinds, but it’s enough to see that most things are as he left them – the shelves and cages are in order, the cats asleep in their beds, Rattler curled up by the back door.

But there’s a naked man sprawled across his floor.

Daichi yelps and jumps back, colliding with the door with a too-loud _bang_. The man groans and stretches, arms out front and rear up like a dog, yawns – freezes mid-yawn. Snaps his jaw shut to stare at Daichi with wide eye. Slightly familiar eyes. “You?” Daichi breathes.

His above-stairs neighbor with the chocolate pitbull named Beaver winces. “Damn, I was hoping I’d be gone by now.” He twists around to sit cross-legged, scratching at his shaved head and unconcerned with his own nakedness. “Sorry ‘bout this.” He grins from under his bare arm. “It’s Daichi, right?”

“Uh- yeah.” He swallows on a tight throat, still clutching the doorknob behind his back. “I think this is the first time I’ve seen you without Beaver,” is what comes out of his detached mouth as his brain keeps screaming, white noise that blocks out any rational questions.

His neighbor – the wolf? – barks a laugh. “Yeah, guess so.” He rolls his head on his neck, bones popping audibly even at Daichi’s frozen distance. The clinic cats, awake now, come over to curl around Daichi’s legs, yowling for breakfast, while Rattler scoots his begging butt over to sprawl across his neighbor’s _very naked_ lap, tongue lolling to the floor out of his open mouth. He chuckles and rubs his belly. “You got some nice animals here, doc, I’ll give ya that.” Daichi nods, clutching the McDonald’s bag tighter. The paper rustles draw his neighbor’s sharp eye, and he lights up, unusual canines a little more disorienting than when he was just a normal neighbor. “Shit, Mickey Ds? You know how to treat a girl right!”

Daichi looks down at his – their – breakfast. “Right.” He takes a deep breath and shakes it off as his wolf-neighbor coos more over Rattler. “Okay, two conditions and you can have it.” He looks up from the barking ham, smile falling to a pout with one eyebrow arched. “One, what the fuck.” He snorts, and Daichi raises another finger. “Two, puts some pants on.” He bark-laughs again – oh. “Wait, okay, three, and don’t judge me, it’s too early for this.” The wolf-neighbor gestures him on with the hand not massaging between Rattler’s tiny ears. “Three.” He swallows. “What’s your name again?”

The wolf-neighbor grins at him from the floor. “Ryuu. Ryuu Tanaka.” He winks. “I guess I’m your friendly neighborhood werewolf.”

“Right. Okay.” Daichi tosses the McDonald’s bag across the room. “I’m gonna- find you some pants,” he forces out before the hysterics can hit, ducking out into the dim hallway and falling on the wall just out of sight, clutching his head. Out of all the options he tossed around his head the night before, he never thought the werewolf one would be the truth – but, well, here he was, so. When in Rome, feed Romulus, apparently. And clothe him.

He ran off to see if his emergency post-mess clothes in the supply closet were clean, the sounds of aggressive eating and roughhousing following him down the hall.


End file.
